


What Happens In France Stays In France

by somethingscarlet13



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Smut, Teasing, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingscarlet13/pseuds/somethingscarlet13
Summary: What really happened when Crowley went to rescue Aziraphale in France.





	What Happens In France Stays In France

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, angel. Only humans do that.” 

The very second Aziraphale hears Crowley’s voice, a thrill runs up his spine. It’s him, his Crowley, he’s here, and even before the angel turns around his heart is pounding. 

He has to catch his breath when he does turn around because Crowley looks sinfully good, sprawled out in black and scarlet like a late 18th century pinup. 

Aziraphale is staring, he knows he’s staring, and suddenly crepes is not what he’s hungry for. 

The wicked grin Crowley gives him tells Aziraphale that the demon knows exactly where his mind is and Aziraphale half wonders if he dressed up like this on purpose. He wouldn’t put it past him. 

Crowley stands up and Aziraphale takes a step backwards, because if he doesn’t put at least a little space between them he won’t be able to stop himself from jumping Crowley’s bones right then and there. 

“What is it, angel?” Crowley asks, the grin on his face growing wider as Aziraphale involuntarily looks him over from head to toe and back again. “Like what you see?” 

_Yes_ . Oh yes, he does, he really, _really_ does. 

Crowley takes another step forwards, and Aziraphale tries to take another step back but his chains aren’t long enough. 

In another step, Crowley is chest to chest with him and Azirpahale’s knees might give out because Crowley looks so damn good it’s not fair. 

“You think I didn’t catch on to your little plan?” Crowley’s voice is right in Aziraphale’s ear. It makes him shiver. “Getting yourself into trouble just so I come running? Really, angel, you couldn’t think of anything else?”

Any other time, Aziraphale would have a great comeback, but his brain is short circuiting with Crowley _right there_ looking _that good_. 

He barely manages to stammer out, “You -- you dressed like this on purpose.” 

Crowley’s face is so close, Aziraphale can feel his breath. 

This is killing him. He needs Crowley to touch him or he’ll die, he’s sure of it. 

“Only the best for my angel.” 

And all Aziraphale has to do is tilt his head slightly to the side, and they’re kissing. 

Crowley is holding him tight, one hair locked in his curly hair, the other fisting in the back of his coat. There’s a _clink_ as Crowley miracles Aziraphale’s chains off, and then the angel is clinging to Crowley desperately and kissing him passionately, hungrily. 

Crowley has him against the wall in seconds, hands moving from his hair and his coat to touch him everywhere, feel him up, and Aziraphale is moaning like a common whore but doesn’t care in the slightest. 

Crowley moves his mouth to kiss and nip at Aziraphale’s neck and that’s it. Azirpahale needs some sort of release, grinding up against Crowley like his life depends on it. 

At the feeling of Aziraphale getting off against him, Crowley lets out the sexiest deep moan, and begins to work at Aziraphale’s pants with fumbling, needy fingers, then at his own. 

He goes back to kissing Aziraphale on the mouth madly once he’s finished, lifting him up to properly fuck him, the angel wrapping his half clothed legs around Crowley’s waist instinctively. 

And then they’re fucking, really fucking, Crowley moving in hard thrusts and Aziraphale grateful that the demon had frozen time, otherwise all of France would hear his cries. 

“You’re beautiful, angel,” Crowley pants into Aziraphale’s neck, not slowing down for a second. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.” He doesn’t care if Aziraphale is paying attention or not, Crowley just has to say it. Because it’s true. Because his angel is soft and perfect and, yes, beautiful, and making the most attractive sounds right now. 

Aziraphale is talking too, murmuring soft, “ _Yes, Crowley, there, right there, so good, so good for me Crowley_.......” into the demon’s hair. 

Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley _is_ paying attention, and every quiet encouagrement from his angel just drives him to fuck Aziraphale harder, deeper, anything to continue the praise he’s getting from the being he loves most in the world. 

He knows Aziraphale is getting close by the way the angel mewls and begins moving his hips in time with Crowley’s. He moves to kiss Crowely’s face all over, and moments later he’s coming in short bursts all over Crowley’s chest with a whine. 

It’s only after Aziraphale comes can Crowley, the thing that always pushes him over the edge is the sight and sound of his angel reaching his climax, and Crowley slams their lips together as he too, comes. 

They stay like that for a moment, catching their breath with their foreheads resting against each other, until Aziraphale laughs breathlessly and kisses Crowley and says, “You can put me down now, my dear.” 

Crowley gently sets Aziraphale down, and the two help each other back into their clothes, occasionally stealing kisses all the while. 

“You know,” Aziraphale says once they’re both fully dressed again, leaning into Crowley’s side with the demon’s arm around him, “I came here for crepes.”

Crowley smiles at him with all the love in the universe and leans down to kiss the top of his head. “Then let’s go get you those crepes.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by this post:  
> https://somethingscarlet13.tumblr.com/post/186313438335/iamjohnlocked4life-snemon-says-im-sorry-but


End file.
